


Not an Artist

by lugubrious



Category: Inuyasha - Fandom
Genre: Beach Holidays, F/F, Fluff, seaside holiday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 08:07:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5658904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lugubrious/pseuds/lugubrious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Kagome saw her, it was only from very far away. </p>
<p>It was a glimpse of movement out of the corner of her eye that made Kagome turn her head to the left. She looked up and down the rough orange cliff face until she spotted a lone figure sitting at the top of the cliff, overlooking the ocean. She couldn’t make out what the person was doing. They seemed to be simply…sitting there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not an Artist

The first time Kagome saw her, it was only from very far away. 

Kagome sat on the beach, absently scooping up handfuls of warm white sand and pouring them over her legs while her younger brother Souta jumped around in the shallow water. 

It was a glimpse of movement out of the corner of her eye that made Kagome turn her head to the left. She looked up and down the rough orange cliff face until she spotted a lone figure sitting at the top of the cliff, overlooking the ocean. She couldn’t make out what the person was doing. They seemed to be simply…sitting there. 

“Kagome! Kagome, watch this!” 

Kagome glanced over to see Souta kick up fat water droplets. He lost his balance on a sand ridge and fell over, laughing. Kagome grinned. 

“Graceful.”

Souta stuck his tongue out. He looked around the deserted beach and sighed, running a hand through his short hair so it stuck up in salty tufts off his forehead. “Can we go home?” he asked. “I’m tired.”

“Sure.” 

They walked together to the path leading off the beach and through a short tunnel of trees, back to the white beach house they were renting. Kagome paused on the edge of the wooden steps. She twisted around, searching for the lone figure up on the cliffs, but they had vanished. 

+

They’d come down to the beach for the summer as a treat for Kagome for both finishing high school a _nd_ getting into her preferred uni. 

On the walk to their rented house, she’d complained loudly that Souta really shouldn’t be coming along. After all he still had several more years of school before he finished; he could come down to the beach then. Souta had tried to trip her over and tripped himself over instead. She piggybacked him the rest of the way. 

And now she could lie around in the sun for hours on end and not worry about studying or homework or anything except being nipped by crabs or sand rashes. 

They’d been at the beach for about two weeks, and since she’d been down on her first day, Kagome had spotted the person sitting up on the cliffs every single day.    

+

It was raining heavily. Water droplets fell in sheets that drummed against the dimpled earth and spattered against Kagome’s window. She peered out at the grey world; the sky was the same colour as the ocean. Out of habit, she glanced at the cliffs by the beach, not expecting to see anything. 

Nevertheless, the lone figure was there, today a red smudge in an otherwise colourless world. Kagome gaped at it. She glanced around the darkened bedroom, in the corner was a pink plastic umbrella. 

“I’m going out quickly!” Kagome called, slipping on an oversized yellow raincoat and clutching the umbrella to her chest. 

“Don’t be too long! You don’t want to catch a cold!” her mother’s voice drifted out from the living room, accompanied by the fuzzy sounds of the television. 

“I won’t!” 

She pushed the door open. The rain hit the earth with a relentless determination, but the actual temperature of the day was pleasantly warm. Kagome walked outside barefoot, one hand clasping the umbrella and the other pressed over her eyes as a shield against the downpour. She set off at a run, her feet slapping against the damp earth. 

The cliff overlooking the sea was about a five minute walk from her house in the opposite direction to the sea. Kagome ran there in under one minute, relishing the sense of freedom. She had to stop herself from continuing on, running off as far as she could just for fun. Instead she slowed to a walk and looked up to the person above her. “Hey!” she called, unsure whether her voice was audible over the rain. When they didn’t look around, she began to clamber up the slippery trail. The hood of her bright yellow raincoat fell back and she felt water slide down her back and dampen her hair. 

“Hey,” she tried again, when she reached the top. “I um… I brought an… umbrella…” 

She paused, remembering for the first time that she didn’t actually know this person. Still, it wasn’t as if she could turn around now. She marched forward, putting the umbrella up as she did, and came to a halt beside the seated girl. 

“Hi,” she said, kneeling beside her. The girl turned, her face passive except for the fact that her eyes were relaxing from having widened slightly in shock. Kagome proffered the umbrella handle to her. “I brought this,” she said, pushing her wet fringe off her forehead. “To keep you… dry…” 

The girl was drenched. 

“Well,” Kagome laughed. “To stop you getting even wetter then. Do you want it?” 

The girl studied her intently. Finally, she sat back slightly. 

“I have no hands to hold it with,” she said simply. Kagome glanced down and saw she was holding a palette in one hand and a paintbrush in the other. Kagome frowned. 

“Can you paint in the rain?” she asked, curious. 

“This is water-colour,” the girl said. It was an answer, just not to the exact question Kagome had been asking. Kagome shrugged. 

“I can hold it if you’d like? I don’t mind staying out here. It’s quite nice outside, really.”

“Why would you do that?” 

“Hm?” 

“Why would you stay out here for me? You have no idea who I am. We’re strangers.” 

Kagome opened her mouth, closed it again. For some reason the blunt statement resonated sourly with her, and she frowned slightly.

“Well… if I sit out here with you we won’t be strangers anymore, will we? I mean,” Kagome amended, glancing at the painting, “If you don’t mind, of course. I know some artists don’t like their work to be seen before its ready.” 

The girl smiled faintly. 

“I am no artist,” she said, not in a self-deprecating way. “But if you want to stay here you may.” 

“Okay.” Kagome seated herself a little more comfortably, tugging the length of the raincoat underneath her crossed legs to shield her sundress from the grass. She barely noticed the rain anymore; she merely felt cool and somehow bright, as though she was being rejuvenated like the vivid plants around them. “You come here every day, don’t you?” she asked. The girl nodded. “Do you always paint?” 

“No.” The girl paused, appraising the bleary canvas. 

“Oh.” Kagome tapped her cheek absently, rolling her eyes at her own carelessness. “By the way, my name is Kagome.” 

The girl inclined her head slightly. “I am Kikyo,” she said.

+

“Her name was Kikyo,” Kagome told her mother as she towelled off her hair. “She was painting.” 

“In that weather?” 

“Mm.” Kagome nodded. “Dedicated, right?” 

“And you see her up there every day?”

“Yeah, almost. The sea’s probably a good thing to paint every day, seeing as it’s always changing. I’m sure the collection of works would be really lovely.” 

“You should invite her over for dinner sometime,” her mother said. Kagome raised an eyebrow at her. 

“Why?” 

“I always worry about those artists,” her mother said, as though she knew many. “They never seem to take care of themselves enough. It’s always about this project or that project… Is she eating well?” 

“Mama, I only met her today,” Kagome reminded her. “For all I know she could be eating like royalty every night.” 

“Who’s eating like royalty?” 

Souta pushed into the kitchen, clutching an angry-looking Buyo. He released the cat, who sprang onto the floor and immediately settled as close to the heater as he could without being in danger of burning himself. 

“A girl I met today,” Kagome said. 

+

“Hi!” 

Kagome approached Kikyo almost hesitantly, wondering whether her presence would be well received or not. Kikyo did not turn around, or give any sign she’d heard Kagome’s arrival. 

Kagome sat down beside her. It wasn’t raining that day. The sun shone through feeble clouds and sparkled so brightly on the ocean’s surface it almost hurt to look at it. 

“Can I sit with you?” Kagome asked. Kikyo continued working on her painting in silence. Kagome watched for a second, feeling awkward and unwanted. Then Kikyo glanced at her. 

“Why?” 

“Why what?”

“Why would you want to? It’s not raining today.” 

“Oh.” Kagome frowned. “Because… Well, is it not okay?” 

“You can stay,” Kikyo said quietly. So Kagome did. She sat in silence with Kikyo atop the cliff until the sun dipped almost below the horizon, and the sky was stained a deep orange. 

“Mama wants to invite you over for dinner,” Kagome blurted out. Kikyo, who was in the process of wrapping up her work for the day, quirked her eyebrow slightly. “I know,” Kagome laughed. “She’s just worried that you aren’t looking after yourself. She thinks it’s a common trait among artists.” 

“I’m no artist.” Kikyo clambered to her feet, her equipment in a calico bag that hung from her side. She leaned forward and held a hand out to Kagome. Kagome took it and stood. “I would like to come for dinner,” Kikyo said.   

+

“Mama, Grandpa, Souta, this is Kikyo. Kikyo, my family.” 

Kikyo paused in removing her shoes and bowed to the small group assembled before her. Kagome’s family bowed back. Her mother straightened, smiling. 

“I hope you like udon!” she said. 

“Thank you,” Kikyo said, stepping up into the main hallway and walking with Kagome into the living room. 

“Kagome says you’ve been painting the ocean?” Souta asked. Kagome gestured for Kikyo to make herself comfortable at the table, before walking to the kitchen to find glasses and drinks. 

“Yes,” she head Kikyo say.

“Can we see?” 

“Souta!” Kagome peered around the counter and glared at her younger brother. “You can’t just ask to see something like that! An artist’s work is private!” 

“I’m no artist,” Kikyo reminded her gently. “However, I don’t plan on showing my pieces until the collection is finished.” 

“How long will that take?” 

Kikyo seemed to contemplate her answer deeply, accepting a glass of raspberry lemonade from Kagome with silent nod of thanks. 

“I don’t know,” she said finally. “But you will be the first I tell when I’m done.” 

“Cool!” Souta grinned, and downed his glass in one huge gulp. Kagome sighed. There was brief lull in the conversation as Kagome and Kikyo sipped from their cups and Souta fiddled with Buyo, who was lying on his lap. 

“Hey, Kikyo?” he asked finally. She looked at him. “Do you want to play a game of spoons?” 

“Don’t,” Kagome warned, glaring at her brother. “He cheats.”

“Do not!” 

“You told me to look out the window so you could steal the last spoon from the table!” 

“It’s called strategy, Kagome,” he said, before turning back to Kikyo. “So, you want to play?” 

“I’m afraid I don’t know how.” 

“It’s pretty simple,” Kagome said. “You have four cards in your hand and the goal is to get all of a certain card. So, for example, all of the ‘fours’, or ‘queens’. When you have all four of them, you can pick up a spoon from the centre of the table. You win by being one of the people to get a spoon before they’re gone, because there is one less spoon than there are players, so someone always misses out. A bit like musical chairs. You see?” Kikyo nodded. “It’s probably easier to see how it’s done in action, if you want?” Kikyo nodded again, smiling faintly. “Okay! Souta, you go find a pack of cards, I’ll get us some spoons.”  

+

“Aha!” Kagome snatched up the final spoon, holding it in the air triumphantly. She smiled at Kikyo, who was holding another spoon and looked as though she was laughing quietly. Her mother and Souta also clutched spoons, leaving her grandfather spoonless. He and Mama Higurashi had been dragged in by Souta, who’d claimed ‘the more people the better’. 

“You’re always so fast!” Kagome said across the table to Kikyo. “How do you do it?” 

Kikyo was definitely laughing. “Magic,” she said, smiling wider than Kagome had seen so far. Kagome grinned back at her. 

“Teach me sometime?” she asked. There was a resounding ‘ding’, and her mother stood up. 

“That’ll be dinner! Kagome and Souta, would you clean up the table?” 

“If there’s anything I can do to help prepare,” Kikyo said, turning to watch Kagome traipse into the kitchen. 

“That’s okay! You’re our guest! Besides, everything’s done. We just have to set the table.” 

+

“Mama wants to invite you over again.” Kagome smiled. “She said you were a wonderful houseguest.” 

“Your mother cooks well.” 

“I’ll tell her you said that. So will you come over again?” 

“Do you want me to?” 

Kagome blinked. “Do I…? Um.” 

She turned to see Kikyo laughing at her. Kagome screwed up her face and she slapped Kikyo gently on the knee. 

“That was mean.” 

“Sorry. I would love to come again.” 

+

It was almost a tradition. Weeks turned into months, and Kikyo was invited over for dinner at the Higurashi household at least every Friday. She never turned the offer down, never pleaded other arrangements or family commitments. 

“Is your family jealous?” Kagome teased, as she and Kikyo stood at the tap. Kikyo paused in washing dishes. 

“About what?” she asked. 

“That we steal you away once a week. But they get you every other day! That seems fair to me.” 

Kikyo carefully set down a plate covered in bubbles. “Excuse me,” she said. She stepped out of the kitchen and disappeared down the hall. 

Five minutes passed, but Kikyo didn’t return. 

Kagome set down her own mug, making her way first down the hall, looking through every room and even knocking on the bathroom door. 

“Kikyo, are you in here?” she called, trying not to blush and wondering if she was vastly overreacting. No one replied. Kagome glanced at the bathroom door, there was no light coming from the other room. She knocked again, waited. Nothing. Kagome frowned. 

“Mama,” she called, walking back into the living room, “have you seen Kikyo?” 

Her mother shook her head. “No, Kagome. Why? What’s the matter?” 

Kagome bit her lip. “Nothing. She just went home without saying goodbye.” 

+

Kagome didn’t approach Kikyo when she saw her sitting on the cliff top the following morning. Instead she pushed herself down to the beach, contemplating what she could say – and what she had said that had gone wrong. 

She’d mentioned Kikyo’s family, and Kikyo had left. She could apologise for being intrusive? Maybe Kikyo was very private about her family life? It made sense; she seemed to be a very private person. Kagome sighed, flopping onto her back in the water. Her hair fanned out behind her, and she could feel herself being tugged by the waves. 

Kagome closed her eyes and thought of nothing. 

+

“Raining again,” Kagome murmured. She stared out through the haze, eyes searching for the coloured splodge in the mist. 

Sure enough, Kikyo was sitting in her usual spot. Kagome glanced to her left at the umbrella stand and spotted the pink umbrella she’d used the first time she spoke to Kikyo. She nodded to herself and gripped the handle tightly. She’d make up with Kikyo. She would do it. 

“Mama, I’m going out!” she called. 

“Don’t be too long!” 

Kagome stepped out into the hush of the rain. This was her favourite weather, she decided. Everything was silent and growing. Perfect for apologies. 

She ran again, feeling the childlike abandon building in her gut until she reached the slope where Kikyo sat. She scaled the slippery grass slowly and sat down beside the other girl. Silently, she held the umbrella out above both of them. 

“I’m sorry,” she said gently. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

Kikyo said nothing, but Kagome didn’t mind. She hadn’t really expected her to. 

“My sister was an artist.” 

Kagome glanced at Kikyo. She hadn’t moved; her gaze was fixed out to sea but her eyes were unfocused. Her hand, clutching a fine paint brush, trembled slightly. 

“Her goal was to paint the sea every day for a year. She wanted to capture its phases. She loved the sea.” 

Kagome stayed still, looking out towards the horizon as the rain buffeted against them. 

“I’m no artist, but she was. And when she… when she passed… I promised her I’d help complete the project. She was my only family.” 

Kagome carefully slide closer to Kikyo’s side until their shoulders were pressed together. She said nothing; she just sat there, feeling the warmth soak through her wet clothes. 

_I’ll be your family._

Kagome was surprised by the intensity of her own thoughts. She opened her mouth to voice them, but instead she said, “The sea is lovely today.”

Kikyo nodded. “I hope to paint it right,” she murmured. 

+ 

Kagome sneezed again, and sighed. She closed her eyes, opening them again at the sound of her mother’s voice calling up the stairs. 

“Kagome! Kikyo’s here. Can she come up?” 

“Ah!” Kagome glanced up from her book and looked around her room. It was tidy except for a pile of scrunched up tissues, which she quickly threw into the waste paper basket. “Yes,” she called out. 

The door to Kagome’s bedroom slid open, and Kikyo walked in.

“You’re sick,” she said. Kagome nodded, then ducked behind her hand and coughed. “Did you catch a cold from keeping me company in the rain?” 

“Eh?” Kagome shook her head quickly, smiling. “No! Or… well… maybe. But it’s alright. I know your art is important to you.” 

Kikyo sat down on a wicker chair next to Kagome’s bed. In her arms she was holding what appeared to be a sketchbook and a small box. 

“Have you been to the sea today?” Kagome asked. Kikyo nodded. 

“I went very early this morning,” she said. Then she paused and looked at Kagome. “Would you allow me to draw you?” 

Kagome stared at her. “Right now?” 

“Yes.” 

“I… yes! Sure! Do I have to sit very still?” 

“No, you can read if you want.” 

“Okay.” Kagome smiled at Kikyo, then opened the book still lying in her lap. Kikyo fell silent. Kagome could hear the shuffling sound of the sketchbook being opened, charcoal dragged against the paper in smooth movements. Kagome felt strangely self-conscious. Was her position okay? How did she look? She swept her hair behind her ear nervously, then cursed herself. She glanced up at Kikyo, who met her gaze. Kikyo smiled. Kagome felt the tension easing slightly, she smiled back and turned to the book. Her stomach tingled pleasantly.

As time went on, Kagome became more and more relaxed. The sounds Kikyo made were minimal and soothing, and she felt comfortable under the other girl’s gaze. 

“Do you mind if I take a nap?” Kagome asked. 

“Should I leave?” Kikyo asked, looking up. Kagome placed her book carefully on the bedside table, pulled her duvet up to her neck and smiled. Her head felt hazy, but pleasantly so. It was like she was floating. 

“No, that’s okay,” she said. “I want you to stay with me.” 

+

“Come down to the beach!” 

“What?” 

“You’ve done your painting for today, right?” 

“Yes I have.” 

“Okay then!” Kagome took a hold of Kikyo’s hand in hers, pretending to tug her down the pathway. “Have you even been swimming here before?” 

“No…” 

Kagome shook her head. “Do you have a swim suit?”

“I don’t think I own one,” Kikyo said, shrugging. 

“You can borrow one.” Kagome tapped her chin, then nodded. “Well, you should probably get into one before you swim.” 

She walked backwards towards the house, Kikyo behind her, their hands still clasped. Kagome beamed. 

+

“Perfect!” 

Kikyo raised a hand almost cautiously, the ludicrously large sunhat casting shade over her whole body. “Kagome…” she said. “I love it.” 

Kagome laughed. “Everyone loves big hats! Come on, the water’s wonderful.” 

The water was indeed wonderful. It was green and clear and cool, pushing against Kagome’s ankles and getting deeper as she waded into the sea. She took a breath and dived in, swimming down across the sand banks to the edge of the miniscule reef that clung to the edge of the beach. She kicked up towards the surface and looked around to see Kikyo standing knee deep, bending over and staring into the water. 

“What can you see?” Kagome called. Kikyo motioned for her to come. 

“Fish!” Kikyo said, her eyes bright as she watched the silver animals flicker between her toes. Suddenly there was a loud yell, and Kikyo was pushed over into the water by Souta, who had propelled himself from the firm sand and crashed into her. 

“Souta!” Kagome took hold of Kikyo’s arm, helping right her, and glared at her brother. “Souta, you-” 

“Wait, Kagome.” 

Kikyo sat in the water, her dark hair threaded across her face and down her arms. She was laughing again. “It’s a beautiful day,” she said. Kagome nodded. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest with some sort of strange adrenaline rush. Not sure what to do with the extra energy, she tapped Kikyo on the shoulder. 

“I’ll race you to the edge of the reef?” she said. 

“Ready, set, go!” Souta yelled. The two girls dived down, Kagome’s hair streamed behind her. They reached the outcrop together and came up for air, laughing. 

“I won!” Kagome said, splashing the water. 

“No you did not,” Kikyo said, smiling. “I’m sure I won that.” 

“Re-match?” 

Kikyo nodded, poised to dive again – but instead of moving forwards she swerved, crashing into Kagome and sending them both tumbling into the water together. Kikyo’s smooth arms wrapped around her waist, she linked her arms behind Kikyo’s back and they kicked up together. 

“What was that?” Kagome spluttered in mock indignation. “You are so-”

Her next words were lost as someone – she wasn’t entirely sure which of them – leaned in. Suddenly she  _couldn’t_ speak. She was too busy being very aware that Kikyo’s lips were pressed against her own, Kikyo’s hands were tangling in her hair – she could taste the salt – 

She moved her arms up until they were around Kikyo’s neck, pulling her closer. 

Kagome would have happily stayed there until she passed out from lack of oxygen, but eventually Kikyo pulled back, her expression soft. Kagome felt breathless and tingly. 

“Not an artist my ass,” she said. “If that wasn’t art I don’t know what is.” 

Kikyo laughed. Then she kissed her again. 

 


End file.
